A major leap forward for an artist whose previous work now seems like a warm-up for the dizzying heights The Navigator strives for, and often achieves.

An intriguing offering, it also finds them expanding their appeal in a very distinctive way. More earthbound than ever, these seductive melodies ought to find them dialing into an audience that’s been targeted by any number of other contemporary combos who are paying heed to today’s multi-cultural mainstream.

It may not have a story of a lost classic, but it has the music of a freshly discovered treasure.

In listening to this remarkable audio document, the thing that stands out most assuredly is the remarkable chemistry these two artists shared, as evidenced through a set of songs culled from the pair’s shared love of gospel, R&B, folk, and other archival sources.

Ultimately, although ‘Like The River That Loves The Sea’ flows slowly towards its ultimate destination, it makes the journey worthwhile. The grace and beauty Shelley shows throughout gives reason for a celestial celebration.

It’s all quite exquisite, gorgeous, charming… and a little bland. Each selection confines to the group’s established low key vibe. But that gets monotonous after a while, even as instruments drift in and out of the mix and tracks such as “Song of the Bell” and “I Lie Awake” up the energy and guitar reverb to include delicate, slightly edgy psychedelics.

Tempest is fantastic, but being impressed by Dylan is old hat. That he still finds ways to surprise us is an achievement beyond all comprehension.

It’s all very much an artifact of its short era and is best appreciated as such. But Press Color captures a vibrant moment in New York City’s historically rich music history that can never be replicated. Even with its obvious flaws and retro vibe, it still feels creative, pulsating and oddly inspirational.

It’s Prince as few have heard him: inspired, unrestrained, playing for no one but himself and the engineer who pushed the record button. Clearly this isn’t for everyone. But those looking for a glimpse into the artist, mostly pre-global fame, working out new and old material, will find it an invaluable and unique addition to his already bulging catalog.

The punchy songs and spontaneous performances are contagious in their jittery energy.

American Love Song expertly and movingly shows how the overarching U.S.A. theme can encompass triumph and tragedy from one moment to the next.

It’s impossible to overstate how marvelously moving and purely enjoyable the end result is, paving the way, we hope, for a follow-up.

Whether couched in the hush of his delicate acoustic finger-picking or amped up with a bit of tempo and electricity, sooner or later, his words demand attention.

This long-awaited comeback of sorts for Cooder is a joyful, intense and occasionally humorous experience that any Americana fan will enjoy.

Jurado manages to fill Visions Of Us On The Land full of musical surprises, but the unfettered emotion that sneaks in toward the end is the most welcome surprise of all.

It’s Holland at her most beautiful; that’s something worth savoring.

At only 36 minutes, it’ll leave you wanting more, convinced that Parker’s previous set was no fluke and that his career as an electrifying singer-songwriter has just begun.

Presley’s latest album is a masterclass in songwriting that shows the singer’s limitless potential.

The dichotomy of Jones’ softer touch with material subtly flowing into darker, more ominous territory and instrumentation that expands her palette into moodier areas provides Pick Me Off the Floor with its tensest moments. Perhaps she hasn’t gone far enough since the tone of the ballad-heavy album could use a little more juice to mix things up. But the eclectic, always classy Jones tweaks even the most unruffled tracks here with enough of an edge to keep things interesting.

Longtime fans who have patiently waited for this resurgence will be thrilled with results that gently tug at the boundaries of their established sound. But even listeners new to the Freakwater experience can start here and work backwards through a rich catalog dedicated to the darker roots of Americana.

The band has never been less than classy fun and the jaunty, delightful Hey! Merry Christmas! doesn’t stray from that by keeping the season alive and well with a holiday album you’ll be returning to each year.

The live 25-song audio concert is a solid performance, but the just above bootleg sound is compressed and tinny. The band plays only a few songs from their IRS days while reprising all but three Monster tunes. The hours worth of mostly instrumental demos, where a Stipe-less trio tests riffs and grooves without actual songs behind them, are pleasant but forgettable. ... Fans will be intrigued by the crisper sound of the [remix] where Stipe’s vocals and Peter Buck’s guitar – cranked up for the majority of the disc – are better defined.

A sturdy but far from a revelatory example of Creedence rolling through a dozen hits and album tracks without much fuss and virtually no connection with the audience for a meager 42 minutes.

Never Will (pre-order here) proves the tough gal persona she established on that stunning debut was no fluke or act. It shows she’s got plenty of raw talent to keep her career growing as another capable, no BS rootsy country infused woman who has charged into the charts and is likely to stay there.

The thoroughly engaging Scandalous certainly satisfying one's hunger for some stick-to-your-ribs rock 'n' soul music. The band, however, seems approaching a crossroads. They definitely demonstrate their skills at successfully reviving these retro sounds but they are still striving to find their own special voice.

Like many a great singer-songwriter, Snider possesses neither an exceptional voice or above average guitar skills. What he does bring to the party, though, is his own inimitable point of view: a wry, self-deprecating, seemingly slightly stoned, hilarious, and authentic persona.

As enjoyable as the album may be, this band needs an audience of excited, cheering fans to transform these songs from 1s and 0s into transcendent experiences.

This melodic yet dynamic punk seems to have been created in the early '80s, a high compliment and one the band is likely to embrace far more than the realization that the disc's title is impossible to fulfill.

Clearly this one-off side trip is not for everyone, perhaps including The Dream Syndicate fans. But those willing to take a leap into more mysterious, experimental, unfamiliar, occasionally avant-garde waters will find enough spine-tingling moments to make this one of the more mind-expanding hours you’ll experience on any recent CD.

With Goodnight Rhonda Lee, Nicole Atkins gets all the pieces to fit. The singer may not have been made for these times, but she creates a defining portrait of an artist whose grasp of the past creates ageless, enduring music for any year.

[Scott] Bomar provided similar assistance for Bryant’s 2017’s comeback but really finds his groove on these 10 superb tracks. He expertly yet effortlessly balances strings, horns and a taut rhythm section while keeping the focus on Bryant’s pleading vocals. Matt-Ross Spang handles mixing at Sam Phillips Recording Service studio in Memphis bringing extra organic zest to this flavorful concoction.

No excuse is necessary. Costello is right back where he belongs and the rewards are that much better as a result.

Four the Record retain all the pain and personality that drove those dark songs [of her first two albums] and redirects her energies toward some of her best and most eloquent singing and songwriting yet.

The singer’s distinctive baritone, dry yet emotive talk/singing style and the crystal clear recording quality focuses attention on his dynamic, sometimes humorous, always poetic lyrics. The interplay with his three backup singers also brings depth and a sensuality often lacking from the studio versions, making some of these laconic and extended performances definitive.

Lenker has a penchant for songs that mine deep emotional depths, but even by her standards, the ten songs that comprise abysskiss are some of the most starkly vulnerable songs of her career.

Fulks pens seven of the 13 tracks and helped curate the rest, plus assembled a band of veterans like Telecaster master Redd Volkaert to give the talented Lewis full room to shine. Which she does masterfully.

Arguably his reach sometimes exceeds his grasp. But with the captivating For Their Love he’s using all the musical and production tools in his artistic arsenal to expand his band’s approach into an album as compelling and transformational as any you’ll experience in contemporary music.

This is another impressive notch in the group’s expansive catalog belt and a further illustration that their classy, classic talents show no signs of dissipating as they settle into middle age.

World On The Ground is many things at once: Emotionally vast, welcomingly homey, highly individualized in its memories, broadly appealing through its attentive storytelling, symbolically hyperbolic, and unintentionally self-aware in its realism. Through many layers of experimentation with lyrical intimacy, Sarah Jarosz has invigorated a songwriting path previously less tended to over her compositional history.

Star Wars may have been released on the spur of the moment, but Wilco’s alchemistic gifts ensure that it’s a moment which fans will want to keep on reliving.

This moodier, more prickly attack suits Glaspy’s voice, concepts, and vision. She aligns with other New York City performers who push into shadier, more extreme territory with a similar snarl, mirroring the insecurity, brashness, and honesty the area seems to instill in its finest artists.

Cole has written a batch of terrific songs and turns in some of his most passionate and committed performances. The tunes are literate, often wickedly funny but remain laced with Cole’s smooth hang-dog vocals.

Those unfamiliar with the artist can start here. But longtime fans should be prepared for a freshly energized Dylan LeBlanc, one who has found new vitality reflected in the lyrics “Dying to be born again.”

Think Steely Dan minus Becker and Fagen’s wry, occasionally sneering lyrics, and you’re getting warm to Lake Street Dive’s approach.

It’s an interesting mix of music, and, as might be expected, a dynamic and diverse concert that stands among the most dynamic of the live music extracts culled from the Hendrix archives thus far.

With the powerful That’s What I Heard, he and Jordan still find ways to broaden, expand and magnify that template without breaking it. Established fans will rejoice in the sheer exuberance, professionalism and variety displayed here. But even those who may have dismissed Cray over the past decade should jump back in and enjoy the ride.

The songs are brash, boisterous and flush with an energy level that aptly reflects a seemingly preternatural zeal and enthusiasm.

If Wilco (The Album) was the band tempering their experimental nature into something more accessible, The Whole Love refines that approach and showcases the full range of Wilco's considerable abilities.

The Vivian Line is unlikely to land on anyone’s hip/hot list. Rather Sexsmith, now pushing 60, is content to churn out radiant, sublime, transcendent music that unobtrusively exists in its own delicate bubble, inviting us in to join him on his unique musical path.

Marling has always sounded like an adult, even when she wasn't one. Now that she's got the actual years to back up her world-weary tone, she's all the more thrilling. Maybe it's the beast within.

An album that’s probably not as good as The Front Bottoms are bound to get, but is just fine for right now.

Stamey makes the most of an ordinary if engaging voice and lyrics that sometimes feel undercooked.

This project is far more adventurous in its presentation of a unique and provocative sonic palette.

An album that floats and hovers with challenging lyrics and a timeless sound that’s often hypnotic in its lovely, sometimes surreal, often delightful qualities.

For longtime fans, A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip is just another impressive notch in Sparks’ ever expanding career belt. But newcomers can come aboard here, then work themselves back through nearly five decades of similarly ecstatic, challenging and generally delightful Sparks music, most of it well worth hearing.

This wasn’t a tremendously fertile period for the group. Yet based on the animated gig and some inspired moments, they still sounded vital, and capable of writing impressive new music, albeit inconsistently and largely without Brian’s input.

As unabashedly pop albums go, Ellis’ self-descriptive Texas Piano Man is a bracing alternative to the guitar-focused music that dominates the singer-songwriter field.

The 14 tracks clocking in at 50 minutes speak to War’s prolific nature, one that encompasses her diversity yet remains focused on vocal, lyrical, and melodic talents that this disc’s enhanced production, and budget, spotlight.

The album has a little something for everyone, from the electronic skronk of "Awake On Foreign Shores" and the Dark Lights' remix "The Stars In His Head" to the gentle, Bachian minute-long dirge, "All The Days I've Missed You."

Ultimately, Lukas is carrying on Willie’s tradition, pushing the outlaw boundaries his famous father established in the ’70s and proving that the musical apple truly does not fall far from the tree.

It is tough to immediately decide where this record fits into Oldham’s dense, diverse and frankly daunting discography, but it’s reaffirming to see him still swinging for the fences.

Even without the obvious gravitas hovering over the project, this is an exceptional work and arguably Allman’s finest non-Brothers release.

Hopefully the Prine connection will provide the necessary visibility to move Waldon to the next level. With the impressive White Noise/White Lines, she proves her talent is worthy of his, and our, admiration.

One of his most accessible albums, one that’s still as delightfully, deeply odd as he has always been.

The music returns to the melodic strains of Hornsby’s more elegiac work, offering a frame of reference that longtime listeners will likely relate to best — from the sweeping piano undertow that characterizes “Days Ahead”—which sounds remarkably at times like Brian Wilson in symphonic mode—to the melodic strains of Lidar,” the “Way It Is”-like narrative that characterizes “Is This It,” the sparkle and sheen of “Had Enough,” the stately feel of “Simple Prayer II,” featuring the tender shared vocals of Z Berg, and ultimately, the dramatic delivery of “Point Omega.”

Few tracks instantly jump out, but after multiple spins, it’s easy to get lost in Lynn’s creamy, dreamy approach, her breathy yet compelling voice, and the life-questioning lyrics that define the album’s overall entrancing soundscape.

As much as Ty Segall is an album of potential singles material, it’s one of the most cohesive sets of music that Segall has released to date.

The confidence and direction A.A. Williams projects makes it feel more like her fifth album rather than her first. It’s a stunning, haunting work that sets the stage for what should be an enthralling and even more provocative career.

It makes for an intense, generally unrelenting forty-minute project; one that pushes The Kills into fresh musical territory, extending and altering the sound they have cultivated for the past twenty years without selling out.

On Weighted Mind she showcases her obvious instrumental talents while displaying a newfound attention to reflective, beautifully conceived songwriting.

Kimbrough has a smooth yet vibrant voice, perfect for this melodic and poignant music. Perhaps a few more rockers would have cranked up the fire, and at ten short cuts, more on the level of what’s here would have been welcome.

While it may be a while until the current pandemic eases its grip on hard touring musicians like the Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, there’s nothing stopping you from pushing play on the exhilarating I Told You So and diving into the surging soulful sounds of one of most talented, driving and funkiest acts around.

What could be a convoluted jumble is instead a beautifully fashioned collection of sounds that flow and shift from the ornate qualities of “When It Grows Darkest” to the stark piano and voice of “The Meadow”; one that drifts with the pensive, thought provoking vibe of a foreign film or the undulating of the ocean tide.

If artistry is the product of passion, then Wainwright has demonstrated yet again that she’s capable of channeling it better than most.

It’s arguably her finest, most moving and cohesive disc which, considering her extensive catalog, is saying plenty.

On Bloodhounds, the harder Victoria works to reckon with the dark Southern demons of her youth, the further she’s pulled back and drawn in by the music she’s discovered along the way: the lonesome wail of Junior Kimbrough, the isolationist cry of Outkast, the mournful lament of Patsy Cline. It’s this push and pull that provides her music’s driving tension.

It’s an impressive start to what seems to be a promising career for Jay Som, an artist ready for the next step to build atop this remarkable and often striking self-constructed first release.

The music comes across as honest, emotional, credible and convincing. ... A Few Stars Apart brings him closer to the singular distinction he so decidedly deserves.

It’s surely as powerful as, and possibly better than, the twosome’s impressive debut.

Sunken Condos is a smooth collection that insinuates deeper feelings through the head-bobbing rhythms and offbeat humor. In other words, it's Donald Fagen doing what he does best, which is always good enough.

There are no weak tracks, proving that this collaboration with Buck & McCaughey provided the energy and creativity to help Escovedo’s 12th studio release be one of his finest, which is no small feat in his already exceptionally productive, creative and influential career.

LIVE DRUGS with minimal audience feedback and crystal clear, at times thunderous, audio is a thrilling representation of the band, at its back-rows filling finest. It’s a terrific substitute for those who haven’t caught them on stage, or have and yearn to relive the experience.

Finally, it seems, she's found her sweet spot in burnished southern folk-pop.

The Nashville Sound is another triumph in his incredible hot streak.

Each track lists a dozen or more players. And while that creates complex, occasionally ornate instrumentation, the songs never feel cluttered or overly busy. Rather Weller carefully crafts this music, shifting moods and using the players to enhance songs that are as well, soulful and heavy, as anything he has created.

Despite his decidedly downcast demeanor — imagine John Cale, Nick Cave and Lou Reed crashing one another’s therapy sessions and turning them into one colossal vent — several songs find a spark that manages to illuminate even the darkest designs.

It’s apparent that this fine fusion succeeds, perhaps beyond the parties’ initial expectations.

An album so full of emotion, it takes a while to absorb it all. It’s not perfect, and it’s not meant to be. But the juxtaposition of slickness and rawness somehow works, making the kind of statement the Chicks have been working toward since they first sang of mattress dancing and offing that unfaithful Earl.

All in all, Blue Rider is a stirring experience, one that elicits emotions with the most subtle of brush strokes and simplest of sounds.

It’s a bold, eclectic and audacious approach to the bulging catalog of breakup ruminations; one that emerges from the crowded field and shows Marlon Williams’ talents are just beginning to blossom.

Arched and anthemic, it’s pumped and primed with drama, mood, mystery, and intrigue. It’s a sound that’s strikingly similar to his old ‘80s contemporaries—Echo and the Bunnymen, Duran Duran, Depeche Mode, and the like.

The heartbreak is palatable and one can’t help but be moved by both the confession and the candor. Indeed, the poignancy is not without purpose.

Support by sparse but not stark backing, make these ballads glow and shine with a low key luster.

The details in Childers’ intricate character descriptions make this one of the finest releases of the year and an impressive introduction to a talented newcomer with striking lyrical and musical talent.

Ultimately then, See You in the Stars is as footloose and fanciful as its handle suggests. When Broudie indulges his instincts, the possibilities can become sky-high.

Like the previous set, this is another batch of slightly skewed but affectionately crafted R&B, heavily tinged by mid-’70s affectations with some blues touches. ... Most impressive though is how soulful a vocalist Dan Auerbach is.

It’s a taut and intense collection of songs that connect just as well without the visuals of the play they were predominantly written to accompany. GOWV displays once again that Steve Earle is one of America’s most captivating, unvarnished, provocative and talented singer/songwriters.

Seven albums on, Isbell’s achieved a rarified status, one that indulges a need for creativity as well as contemplation. Reunions reminds us that it’s the rare artist that succeeds at both.